Between the Blankets
by MrsGaryOldman
Summary: My first LOTR Fic! : Set one year after Aragorn's coronation. This is just a conversation between him and Arwen regarding an upcoming change to the palace of Gondor [suitable for all]


**The Lord of the Rings** - _Between the Blankets_

She was finally settling into slumber. The past few hours had been little but restless as Arwen desperately tried to fall into a much-needed sleep. The large oak bed proved to be more irritating than comfortable as she constantly tossed and turned between the silk-woven sheets, thinking about the days that lay ahead. The past few months had been physically different for her, and she had become much more drained and worn than one normally would. This however would not compare to what was due for the following days. As she rested a delicate hand on her large round-bumped tummy, the Elf eventually began to drift into a short-lived repose.

The reason of her sleep becoming merely a nap was due to the entrance of her husband into their bedchamber. Her pointed ears awoke as she heard the slow creaking of the huge patterned door. The King was never one to go to bed early, for he always had so much work to attend, but he had been kept especially busy during the past week with counsels and meetings regarding new laws. It was quite unfortunate timing however, for both him and her.

Above any other time, Aragorn had wanted to spend these particular days with his wife. She was coming towards the end now, and he didn't want to dare miss one moment. His duties had recurrently kept them separated throughout the day, leading him to already miss more than he wanted. Whilst clutching a slim, long candle, The King's steps echoed on the cold marble floor as he stepped closer to his sleeping wife, casting her pristine face in the soft honey light. He desperately desired to steal perhaps maybe a single kiss, or even just stroke her ebony waved hair, but as he believed she was sleeping, Aragorn selflessly did not want to risk waking her. Arwen's face dwelt in his mind all day, but it did not do her beauty the justice of seeing it in flesh. He gazed upon her angelic state with his crystal eyes before making his way round to his left side of the large bed. He was quite worn after the day's work, and gladly began removing his heavy royal armour with the greatest caution.

Though she intended to keep her state of rest, a sense on contentment arose inside her as she inwardly smiled at his mere presence. She felt his weight sit on the far side of the mattress as he began to ready himself for bed with a tired sigh. Her back faced him, and his to her, and she pictured in her now woken mind what she heard.

With his armour removed, she continued listening to him in the dark and could imagine her husband proceeding to remove his white, gold laced tunic, designed with a rich fibre and completed with a high collar. Arwen herself had sewn the emblem of Gondor's 'White Tree' proudly on the front of the piece. The elaborate fastenings eventually opened to reveal an airy crimson under-garment. The sound of it being discarded on the large velvet chair it reached her ears and she could envision his now ruffled chestnut locks and beautifully formed upper half in which she had come to know so well. His firm, strong body was coloured a perfect tan, but his years as the ranger 'Strider' and his battles for the sake of Middle Earth and it's people left his form with some severe scars. After two years, some of the markings still caused discomfort and pain.

Arwen then heard him untie his white boots, lined with a glistening gold thread. They proved much more presentable for a king as opposed to the heavy, hard-wearing black boots in which he grew accustomed to during the previous years. However, this specially crafted pair provided a similar, yet neater design. As she continued to lie in a still state, the Queen fondly remembered her husband's original protest at wearing the palace footwear, claiming he wouldn't become adjusted to such 'feathery' designs. Legolas, a Mirkwood elf prince and closest friend, and Faramir, Aragorn's most trusted aide, had not helped matters with their jibes and laughter, but when the royal tailors agreed he may compromise his personal interpretation to the boots, a slick white pair were produced.

The King's next move was to inevitably unbuckle the neat leather belt, richly designed with a silver leaf motif. This was followed by the removal of his white trousers, constructed with the same starched fabric as his long coat. The subtle sound of the friction of the stiff material brought more warm thoughts to Arwen's head as it meant he was soon ready to join her between the blankets. She felt the bed briefly relieve of his bodily pressure before a slight tingling breeze passed down her barely covered back. The King had finally lifted the silken sheets to lie beside her.

She soaked in each movement of her husband as he firstly sat upright to quench the glowing candle and then began to adjust his puffed pillow before laying down to find a comfortable position. Without having to look, she could sense that he was resting on his back, facing completely to the high ceiling, slightly shivering in a bid for warmth. His breath had not yet settled and he continued to squirm around in the blankets until she could no longer resist hiding herself and rolled over on top of him!

Upon contact with his tingling, slightly cold skin, fresh to the bed, Arwen felt him stiffen with surprise as she continued to keep her heavy lids shut. She situated her head upon his right shoulder, letting her head fall limp beneath his whiskered chin. Her arm travelled over to lay around his waist. His senses became completely alert with the startle of her sudden movements.

"I thought you were sleeping…." came his simple remark in a loud whisper, leaning his chin back in a strained effort to look at his wife. The pale silver moonlight that seeped through the windows only let him make out her silhouette, but he saw more with his touch. He let his head rest upon her soft, finely stranded hair as he indulged in her warmth.

"I was until you came in," she answered, unable to restrain herself from quiet laughter, "No matter how hard you try, you just can't help it – there's no way anyone could dwell in slumber with your boisterous movements…but I understand - men don't have the more elegant traits of elfs."

He released a tight smile in defeat as his grip around her tightened, "I'm sorry….I will simply have to try even harder in the future. Us men don't give up."

"Even though you should…." she cooed mockingly, letting her fingers lightly circle his waist, "But I'm glad you woke me, as you do each night. It's my most treasured part of each day."

"As is mine," he quietly replied, "If I could spend more time with you, my Love, I would. There is nothing I desire more than to be in your presence, but these past few days have been rigidly planned with work."

"How was today? Have the council yet come to any agreements?" she yawned, offering some interest into her husband's political affairs.

"Well, those in Belfalas prove to be hard satisfied, while their equally stubborn neighbours in Dor-en-Ernil won't compromise with any of our suggestions – We've even offered a monthly ride around, but they then claim they're being treated as prisoners!" Aragorn exclaimed, letting his voice nearly rise above the whispered tone, only stopping for air, "….I don't know Arwen, I'm am beginning to think even wise old Gandalf wouldn't know what to do with them." The sigh in which he ended the sentence demonstrated his worn state. It had been several weeks since the men from different habitats of Gondor came to their King with complaints regarding the other town, and the Palace had become increasingly annoyed with the petty bickering.

Arwen felt powerless to ease her husband's plight, as his heavy duties rarely concerned her. However, this did not stop her from trying. "Even though you may be a mortal man," she began playfully, now opening her large, glistening eyes, "Your wisdom can closely match that of the wizard or of the elfs, dearest King. Don't let these present challenges tire you – no one expects you to work so severely through these heavy tasks. It is not thought to be easy."

"I never thought it to be easy, my Love. Your father always told me 'responsibility is never easy' whilst I grew, and I understand that now."

"But it tires you greatly! You always have worry on your mind, and that worries me!" she desperately exclaimed. Her hand stopped gliding over his waist as she moved it to his weathered chest, lifting herself up slightly so she could lean on her side, raised above him. "I fear greatly of the effects your constant tasks may bring – there was a time I believed I would never cast my eyes upon you again, and after the quest with the ring finally finished, it's unfair you should constantly face such turmoil."

It was a rare occurrence in which an elf would become so uneased, and Aragorn was quite taken by her emotion. Of course, however, Arwen had more than an excuse to display such open sentiments. She had undergone severe changes over the past nearly 9 months. His arm rubbed hers as he tried to form a reply. Nothing would come to mind except for the one in which she had provided him in previous years. He too was once scared of the hard path before him, but her encouragement and choice of words rid of his ambivalence. "You told me once that my path lay clearly before my feet. I accept the challenges my destiny as a King requires me. And having survived those depths in which I have been, I'm sure I can manage the role of King of Gondor and Middle Earth. It does not compare to the difficulties the previous years provided. I would you not worry, my Undomiel…most especially in your given state." His voice softened as he ceased gliding his hand on her arm and situated it gently on her swollen tummy.

She could make out his face in the dark now, lined with the silver moonlight, though the happiness he eluded radiated as the sun! A slight smile appeared on her full lips and she felt quite ashamed for her sudden lack of restraint. It had been something she couldn't help lately. Thankfully, it wouldn't have to last much longer. "I will be relieved of this 'state' soon enough, _meleth-nin_. I am sorry for my swift changes in mood, but the biggest change is yet to come…."

"And I cannot wait. Do not apologise for your temperament," he comforted, before smiling mischievously, "I have enjoyed seeing the new, less conservative aspects of my wife. I had always believed elfs to be immaculately behaved in propriety until eight months ago, but to my surprise, I have discovered you can become as flustered as any man!"

She raised a mocking brow down to him before gliding a delicate slender finger across his chest, "Dearest King! Above any other, I would have expected you to know of an elf's 'less conservative' side!"

"And what would you mean by th……." He attempted to ask before her rounded lips covered his, stealing his breath. She brushed a slender hand along his bristled cheek, letting it travel along his arm and onto his shaped torso before eventually backing away from the warm encounter with a proud smirk. "Um hum," Aragorn adjusted in surprise with raised brows and quick blinking eyes, "You seem to have warmed my memory…I think I can faintly recall instances in which you have not been entirely….um…._conservative_!" He smiled shyly, placing his hand gently on top of hers.

"Your recall may be more vivid in the preceding weeks, that is, if we're not kept so busy with the new arrival."

Their focus once again was brought to her neat bump. Their eyes locked in the pale light as they stared silent, each envisioning what the near future would bring. Both Aragorn and Arwen had wanted their own family for some time, and the addition of a baby to their couple couldn't be but perfect.

"Perhaps it may provide a rare legitimate excuse to get you out of your royal duties for once!" She teased, resuming her light strokes across his bare chest. She could trace each mark without sight or touch.

"I shall sieze each opportunity that is bestowed to me," he replied in soft whisper, growing serious as he lay still in thought. His life would soon be it's most prominently altered with the birth of his first child. It had been a desire of his for sometime to add the role of a father to his many duties, and could hardly hold out until the day the sacred gift of a son or daughter would sit in his arms. And he would not wish to share his life or family with any other than his fair wife. "Arwen, I am sorry for my constant absence, especially as of late, but I promise you I will not miss the beginning or growing of our child."

She felt his ache in her own heart as his vow reached her elven ears. "As good you are a King and as precious you are as husband, I have no doubt you'll be an even better father." She confidently leant forward as she pressed her mouth to his again, giving truth her words. She progressed delicately along his cheek and trailed to the base of his tender neck before she rested her head limply onto his shoulder.

He adjusted with her sensual touch, unable to restrain even a slight reaction. Her warmth on him was like no other comfort or fulfilment. The wear and tear in which his body had become accustomed to more than welcomed the delicate presence of his wife. His repetitive smooth strokes along her silken skin sent him into an eased state. He closed his heavy lids, prepared to settle into a content sleep, cradling his wife and unborn babe in his secure arms.

As he became rested in the darkness, the sound Arwen's sudden shiver and remark broke the silence and awoke him again, "Ohh, your feet are freezing My Lord!"

Aragorn laughed silently, pulling the blankets up over their shoulders and tightening his grip of her, "I'm sorry my Lady, it's another trait of us men."


End file.
